


Will Cooper is NOT a Problem

by Fanfic_or_bust



Category: Single Parents (TV 2018)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, F/M, First Kiss, I'm just impatient, Idiots in Love, canon compliant up to 216, not that we need a fix it, this is one way Will and Angie could get together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_or_bust/pseuds/Fanfic_or_bust
Summary: Angie D'Amato might be secretly in love with Will Cooper, but their friendship was *not* a problem. She didn't know why everyone kept telling her it was a problem, because it *wasn't*. She was ~just fine~. You know what the problem was? People telling her she had a problem. Angie was *fine*. People just needed to shut up....This is the story of Angie realizing that maybe being in love with her best friend *is* a bit of a problem, and finally doing something about it. Canon compliant up until episode 16.#LetWillandAngieKiss2k20warning: the rating will increase in chapter 2
Relationships: Will Cooper & Graham D'Amato, Will Cooper/Angie D'Amato
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54





	Will Cooper is NOT a Problem

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic I've published in over two months, but I just couldn't help myself. I love Will and Angie so much! And they are obviously endgame for Single Parents, but I've found myself impatient and wanting more fic that brings these two together sooner.
> 
> So here is my take on how they could get together, and it will be instantly obselete when the new episode comes out! 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy :)

Angie didn’t have a problem, she didn’t. Everything was A-Okay. Hunkey dorey. Fantastic!  _ Totally great. _

And okay,  _ fine _ , maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She had a leaky dishwasher, several unpaid parking tickets that she was pretty sure were going to come back to bite her in the ass sometime soon, and this weird clicking in her jaw that hadn’t gone away since she’d had that competition with Miggy to see who could fit the most mini-marshmallows in their mouth at one time. She hadn’t even won. She hadn’t even  _ come close,  _ and she was  _ still _ pretty sure he’d cheated somehow, but hadn’t been able to prove it. And as a result, she was stuck babysitting not-so-baby Jack every Tuesday and Thursday night for the next three weeks because apparently Miggy and his relationship-posse had signed up for “erotic yoga” classes at the local rec centre.  _ Barf. _

So yeah, Angie had problems. But Will wasn’t one of them. In fact, Will was the  _ opposite _ of a problem. He  _ actively helped her _ on a daily basis _ ,  _ and frankly, she didn’t know what she would do without him. He helped her clean her house when she got busy or overwhelmed or just felt lazy, and did all the gross chores she didn’t like doing. He took care of Graham like he was his own, and having that kind of support after raising her son all on her own for so long had been a game total changer. And it wasn’t just when she needed it for work, either. Will was always insisting she take some “Angie time”, sometimes going as far as booking her a massage or pedicure to make sure she took some time for herself. When Will knew Angie would have to work late, he’d always make extra for dinner, and send it home with Graham for her to heat up. He took care of them. He was a  _ good friend. _

Clearly, Will was  _ not _ a problem. 

So Poppy could suck it. Angie was  _ fine. _

Although, maybe she  _ did _ have a point or two. Because Angie was supposed to be dating… oh God, what was his name again? Blonde? Handsome? British? Yeah, that guy. Angie was supposed to be dating  _ him.  _ And yet Will’s name was every third word out of her mouth, no matter who she was talking to, even when she was out on dates with… him. What was his name again? She probably shouldn’t be forgetting her boyfriend’s name, add that to the list of problems. Problems that don’t (but maybe do?) include Will. 

  
  


Angie was in love with Will. She knew it, Poppy knew it, even Will’s Mom knew it, and she told her that at every opportunity on their weekly phone calls to discuss the newest episode of The Bachelor. “One of these days you two crazy kids will figure out you’re meant for each other and you’ll regret this time you’re wasting on… what was his name again?” Lucy had asked, and honestly? Angie didn’t know, she’d forgotten again.

“Craig, I think? No, that doesn’t sound right… Calvin? No-- it’s Colin. Final answer.” She replied, and  _ okay _ , even Angie wasn’t delusional enough to see there wasn’t a bit of a problem there. 

“...Angie--”

“I know! I know. I’ll break up with… Christopher? Tonight. I’ve been meaning to for a while. Turns out a sexy British accent doesn’t make up for a total absence of personality. Who knew?” She replied, and then thinking, she hastily added, “But that  _ doesn’t  _ mean I’m just gonna up and jump Will’s--” Angie paused suddenly, remembering who she was talking to, her mind scrambling to walk it back, to come up with something more PG. “Uhhh--” She struggled, but thankfully, Lucy stepped in to rescue her.

“Don’t worry, Angie, sex isn’t something to be ashamed of. In the Cooper house, we love our bodies and we celebrate sexual--”

“OKAY!” Angie interrupted, because she could  _ not _ have this conversation with Will’s  _ mom. _ “It’s irrelevant anyways, because that’s never gonna happen with Will. He’s like my--”

“Don’t say brother.”

“Brother.”

Lucy groaned. 

“You, Angie D’Amato, have a problem.” She said and Angie sighed. She did… she really did. 

  
  
  
  
  


Angie chewed on her lip, thinking about what to do. She’d tried to break it off with Caleb, but the words hadn’t come out right, and he didn’t seem to be  _ getting _ it, and Angie wanted to scream. What the hell was she doing wasting her time with this rando anyway? Well, she knew what she was doing. She was avoiding the inevitable with Will. This new guy had arrived at Hilltop at the exact right moment to distract her from her real problem… her rapidly increasing feelings for her best friend. 

Though to be clear, the problem here was the feelings. Not Will. She was still adamant that Will was  _ not  _ a problem. It was just all her complicated feelings for him making a mess of everything that was the problem. See? It was her, not Will. That was an important distinction. 

The more she thought about Will, the more she wanted to talk to him about her problems with Carlisle. Will was her best friend, and whenever she had problems, he always did everything in his power to help her. Hell, at Christmas, the man had created a literal  _ miracle, _ just for her son, by finding  _ snow _ of all things, in California. If anyone could help her with this problem, it would be Will.

And yet, she hadn’t called him. Because even Angie knew that some problems couldn’t be solved by Will. And how could she explain the full breadth of the problem to him anyways? UGH. Why had Cameron even gone out with her in the first place? When it had been so obvious that she was into Will. She’d kind of thought, out there on the swings, that she’d been confessing her love for her best friend to the Englishman. She’d literally gotten up and walked away from him, to go and find Will. And then they’d  _ crushed _ the remainder of the Valentine’s dinner.  _ Together. _

But Carlos wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, apparently, and he’d mistaken her confession for a… declaration of… friendship?  _ Was that even a thing? _ Angie shook her head just thinking about it. What a mor- _ oon. _ Either way, Corbin was either the world’s most trusting idiot, or he just didn’t care about her enough to feel any jealousy over what she considered at this point to be a very obvious pre-existing case of  _ love _ for her best friend Will. 

At least, all her friends told her it was obvious. And Will’s parents. And Wilma, the crossing guard. And Jorge, the burrito truck guy. And, okay, the list could go on. So Angie had it on very good authority that it was painfully obvious that she was in love with Will. Which meant that Clayton either didn’t care, or he was simply too dumb to date. 

  
  


In the end, and much to Angie’s surprise, the truth had set her free. It wasn’t usually her go-to move for getting out of jams, but in this one she had seemed to be out of options. And it worked like a charm! She’d sat… whatshisface… down, and told him point-blank that she couldn’t date him because she was in love with someone else. 

His face had fallen a little in disappointment at first, but then he’d looked up at her in curiosity. “Do I know them?” He asked, and she couldn’t help it, she’d rolled her eyes so hard they almost got lost in the back of her head. This guy really just didn’t  _ get _ it. And she didn’t feel like explaining it to him so she’d just pinched the bridge of her nose and shaken her head in response.

  
  
  
  


Later that night Angie and Graham had ended up at Will’s place, because of course they had. Angie had  _ told _ herself that she wouldn’t run straight to Will the second she was single, and she liked to think that she hadn’t done that. It had been special circumstances, completely out of her control, that had led to the situation she’d gotten herself into. Namely, a “sympathy” Joust re-watch, with a very attentive and empathetic Will. 

Hey… it wasn’t  _ Angie’s _ fault that she had run out of sugar and she happened to know that Will was always fully stocked. And,  _ okay _ , maybe she didn’t really  _ need _ any sugar at the moment. But you never knew when you’d have a sugar related emergency! It was better safe than sorry. 

So here she was, lounging sideways on Will’s couch with her feet on his lap, as her best friend kneaded at her arches and stretched her toes absentmindedly while never taking his eyes off the screen. “Oh my God, this is the part where Lord Padshire denounces the entire council of Amberlore!” He squealed, and Angie squealed along with him. She  _ loved _ this part. They both got lost in the story for a minute, and Will’s hands had fallen still. So Angie gave him a gentle nudge, and he started rubbing them again without complaint. 

This was turning out to be a pretty good night after all. 

  
  
  


Between episodes, they’d gone to the kitchen to get a snack. Will always had the  _ best _ snacks, and there were always multiple options to choose from. Tonight she went with the classic, buttered popcorn, and they milled around the kitchen together as they waited for the bag to start rising.

“Angie, don’t stand so close to the microwave, it’s not good for you.” Will said from his place leaning against the sink, and Angie scrunched her brows in defiance.

“No way, it’s so warm and glowy. And plus I like watching the popcorn pop.” She replied, and she could see Will shake his head in the reflection of the microwave door. Then she felt his hand taking hers, pulling her away from the warm, soothing radiation. “Damnit, Cooper! I’m a grown woman, I can radiate myself if I want.” She argued, but there wasn’t much fight in her, not really. She was too distracted with the pleasant warmth of Will’s hand on hers, and the way warm tendrils seemed to tingle and wrap their way up her arm, and because an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies had set flight in her stomach the second he had touched her. 

Will tugged her across the kitchen towards the counter, where he’d been leaning and had a large bowl ready. Their hands lingered for a second or two too long, long enough for both of their eyes to meet, wide and more than a little freaked, and then they pulled apart too fast, like they’d been burned. Will swallowed harshly and Angie bit her lip, both of their eyes trailing around the room, desperate to land on anything that might distract them from that little bit of awkwardness.

As if by divine providence, the very first ‘POP’ happened at that very second, and both of their heads snapped towards the microwave. A large and mischievous smile overtook Angie’s face, and she turned and darted back over towards the microwave to watch.

“ _ Angiiiieeee _ ,” Will whined, and Angie smirked as she planted herself, her arms crossed over her chest so he couldn’t grab a hand. Though that didn’t stop him from trying. He pawed at her upper arm, trying to pull it free and maneuver her around and away from the microwave, and Angie held onto the counter to try to anchor herself in place. “It’s not good for you!” He laughed, as they began to wrestle, Angie always trying to get back to the microwave, watching as the popcorn popped.

Eventually, Angie began to get pulled away, because of course Will was bigger and stronger than her, and honestly she hadn’t been putting up  _ that _ much of a fight. Because let’s face it, she’d been in enough mosh pits in her day to know when to throw an elbow. But she didn’t want to throw elbows at Will, she definitely didn’t want to hurt him, or really even resist that much at all. She was too busy guiltily enjoying every second of this wrestling match. They laughed, and tousled back and forth, and were both breathless by the time Will had her in a bear hug, pressing her against the opposite counter. 

“Yield, and I shall let thee live!” Will declared in his Joust voice, when he had enough air in his lungs to finally speak, and Angie laughed. 

“Never! Give me death before dishonor!” She replied in her  _ own _ best Joust-voice, which prompted Will to resume his tickle-attack on her sides and ribs, demanding her surrender the whole time. Angie laughed and squealed, and (half-heartedly) tried to get away, before finally gasping enough breath to shout ‘yield!’. 

Except, she hadn’t had to. Because just as she was going to give up, her chest aching from laughing so hard, the microwave alarm had gone off. Immediately, Will had jumped away, his back straightening and eyes widening, as if the alarm had woken him up from a dream. A dream where he had Angie pinned against the counter, his hands all over her, and they were  _ so, so happy. _ His face fell, which made Angie’s face fall, too. 

“We should…”

“Popcorn.” Angie agreed, and then they sprang into action. Will got the bowl and Angie made her way back to the microwave to get the popcorn. “Oooh! Hot! Hothothot--” She said in alarm as the butter burned her, but she held on just long enough to drop the bag into the bowl Will had ready. She also spotted a bottle of wine under his arm, and smiled.

He smiled back, and gave her a courtly bow. “After m’lady.” He said, and she curtsied back, and smirked. 

“M’lord.” She replied, and then headed back into the living room to continue their binge session. 

  
  
  
  
  


Angie didn’t know if it was the nervous and excited energy from what had happened in the kitchen, but they had both been  _ thirsty _ during the next episode of Joust they’d watched, and had blown through that bottle of wine way too fast. And it wasn’t a regular sized, classy bottle of wine, either. This was a jumbo-sized discount screw-top bottle that Angie had dubbed ‘Big Bertha’. She’d discovered it for the first time the previous year, and had since determined it to be the cheapest, most efficient way to get drunk. She’d brought it as a host gift at the last gathering Will had held at his place, and she guessed he’d never gotten around to drinking it. It  _ was _ a lot of wine for one person. Not that that had ever stopped Angie on a lonely Friday (or let’s face it, Tuesday) night.

The credits from the episode were playing, and Angie felt her head swimming pleasantly as she watched Will lean forward to try to pour another glass, but only get drops. “We bled Big Bertha dry.” Angie pouted, and Will laughed, tipping the glass back and drinking the scant few drops he’d been able to pour out. 

“It’s a good thing tomorrow’s Saturday because I think it might be a little hard to get up in the morning.” Will said in reply, rubbing at his temple with the heel of one palm and leaning back, finding himself a little closer to Angie than he’d previously been. She was instantly aware of the increased proximity, though if Will noticed, he wasn’t letting on. He turned to look at her, and was it just her or was his voice a little huskier than usual as he asked “One more?”. He looked hopeful, his slightly glassy eyes bright and his dimples popping. 

Angie sighed, she literally  _ sighed  _ as she took in his stupid adorable face, and it was a little too close to a swoon for comfort. She realized that a little too late, her eyes widening with realization and she hurried to cover up her mistake. “Bottle, or episode?” She asked, waiting a beat for comedic timing. “Because the answer to both is  _ yes. _ Though if we crack open one of Bertha’s sisters, I’ll probably have to crash on your couch. If that’s okay?” And did she just invite herself to sleep over? This was Bertha’s fault. She always  _ had _ been a bad influence.

But if her request had been a faux-pas, Will didn’t seem to get the message because he just beamed. “Are you kidding me?  _ Slumber party? _ Count me in, I’m off tomorrow, I’ve got nowhere to be in the morning. Maybe we can even finish season one, there’s only two episodes left!” He replied eagerly, and without waiting for a reply, he quickly got to his feet to grab the empty bottle on the table and to go grab another (likely smaller) one for round two. 

He’d been sitting so close that Angie instantly missed his presence at her side, as painful and tempting as it was when he got so close that she could literally feel the warmth radiating off his body. She shivered at the chilly absence of  _ Will, _ and decided now would probably be a good time to hit the ladies room and check on Graham, before diving back in for three more hours of Joust. 

  
  


When she got back, Will was still in the kitchen, so she settled onto her usual spot on the couch and queued up the next episode, hitting pause just as the opening credits were ready to finish. And as if on cue, Will then appeared from the kitchen entryway, his arms laden with snacks and alcohol. Immediately, Angie’s eyes scanned the haul: Cheetos, juicy fruit snacks, chocolatey granola bars, and a bag of Chips Ahoy. Her smile widened. “Gimme!” She said, a little too loud, as she held out her arms and made grabby hands. 

Knowing not to argue with drunk-Angie when snacks were involved, Will came over and let her help him place his armful of junk food onto the table. He’d already popped the cork on what was probably at least a twelve dollar bottle of wine, so she didn’t even put that down, just went straight to pouring both herself and Will a healthy glass. And that’s when he sat down next to her.

Close. Very close. Closer than they’d ever sat before, alone together, when there was plenty of room to spread out. Close enough that Angie instantly felt the heat of him, felt pulled into his side from the indent his heavier frame was making in the couch cushion next to her. In order to hide her excitement and nervousness, she took a large gulp from her glass and then another, before she leaned forward to place it back onto the table. Then she ignored the heady effects of the wine and twisted in her seat to look at Will, but it was hard because he was  _ so close.  _ “You ready?” She asked, and he nodded eagerly. 

“At M’Lady’s pleasure.” He replied, and she hit play. 

When she leaned back against the couch, she was once again reminded of how  _ close _ Will was, but soon those thoughts were washed from her mind because this was the episode where the Baron of Bloodstone killed his own brother by accident, when he was disguised as their turncoat Uncle, who had in turn murdered their father in an attempt to usurp the family fortune. 

_ Damn, _ Joust was good. 

And so they sat for a while, proximity and  _ feelings _ forgotten, completely absorbed by the show they so mutually loved. While they watched, Angie and Will shared a pack of fruit snacks, and nibbled away at the spread he’d brought out. They drank the wine, though in a less hurried pace than before, and after every sip, Angie felt more aware of how tipsy she was getting, vaguely thinking maybe it would be smart to slow down before she did something stupid. 

Throughout the show, she’d noticed that Will would occasionally rub at the base of his hand, like it was sore or tight or something, though he said nothing and at first she’d barely noticed it herself. But by the third or fourth time he’d repeated the action, she clued in that his hands were probably sore from rubbing her feet for so long. In her slightly tipsy state of mind, there seemed to be only one course of action to remedy that. 

“Gimme.” She said, grabbing his hand and she began to massage it, working at the tight muscles and tendons at the base of his thumb. At first she hadn’t thought anything about it. He’d hurt his hand rubbing her feet, and his hand was  _ right there _ , basically inches away, and she was perfectly capable of rubbing his sore muscles in repayment. It was only fair after all.

But when she had Will’s hand in her own, her fingers brushing over his surprisingly soft skin, holding him tight, kneading the very real and warm flesh… well, it just didn’t feel all that  _ friendly. _ It was a little more than that, and she wondered if Will felt that too, she wondered what he was thinking. So she chanced a peek at him, and found that he’d stopped looking at the tv, and was now turned to look at Angie. There was a soft look in his eyes and Angie felt a swoop in her gut and she had to turn away, it was too much.

But she didn’t put his hand down. She didn’t stop moving her own hands, didn’t stop trying to make him feel as good as she could, trying to pour all the love she felt into this one stupid gesture and hoping it wouldn’t ruin things or change them too much. Unless it was for the better. She just  _ really _ didn’t want to screw anything up.

She could feel his eyes on her for a while after she had looked away, trying in vain to focus on the show or the massage and not the dramatically rising levels of sexual tension in the room. But he’d eventually looked back at the television and they continued watching Joust together. 

  
  
  


After a while, Angie’s massage had become weak and perfunctory as her hands got tired, and she’d had to put Will’s hand down. She hadn’t ever wanted to stop, because stopping the massage would mean she couldn’t touch him anymore and that somehow just felt  _ wrong _ to her at that moment. But she physically couldn’t continue, so what was she going to do? So she’d reluctantly put Will’s hand down with a little awkward pat, and then tried to focus on the show to distract her. 

Except nothing could have distracted her from what came next. Because out of nowhere and without a word or sideways glance, Will reached between them and took Angie’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together and slowly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Angie froze and she was pretty sure her heart stopped beating for a few seconds before everything seemed to start again and she realized what was happening.  _ Will was holding her hand. _

Her mind began to race.  _ What did this mean? _ Did this mean he liked her back? Like…  _ like- _ liked? Or was this just some sort of  _ friendly _ hand holding thing? Because, that wasn’t totally outside the realm of possibility, and Will  _ was _ a pretty touchy-feely guy in general. But they’d  _ never _ done anything like this before, this was new, uncharted territory. She chewed on the inside of her lip, and tried to look at the tv and stop staring down at where they were  _ holding effing hands together _ but it was a struggle. 

It may have been less weird if he’d said something, or if, maybe, he’d given  _ any _ sort of indication of his intentions at all. Because, was this just some sort of weird thank you for the hand massage? And  _ he was sitting so close, _ she couldn’t think! And oh God, any second her hand would get sweaty, would Will hate that? Would he stop this wonderful, beautiful, ridiculous and baffling thing he was doing, and drop her soggy hand in disgust? She shifted in her seat a little, but Will didn’t break their connection. 

And so they sat there, holding hands and watching Joust. After a while, Angie almost got used to it. It didn’t hurt that this was the penultimate episode and those were always the best ones, but she’d decided to just go with it, after a little while of over-thinking, and came to enjoy the quiet comfort it brought her. She’d been happy that when he’d leaned forward to grab his glass of wine, he hadn’t let go. He’d simply used his free hand, and then settled back against the couch, so close their shoulders were almost touching. After he’d put his glass down again, Angie had slumped towards him just enough that they finally touched there, too. 

This was starting to feel downright  _ intimate _ , and Angie thanked the memory of Big Bertha and the liquid courage she’d imbibed for the lack of panic she was experiencing. In fact, it was sort of the opposite. The more time that passed like this, in this quiet, unspoken (but intimate) connection, the less anxiety she felt. It was like slowly, the icy walls she’d built around herself were melting. Will was getting in.

He started idly playing with her fingers after some time, right as the episode picked up for the final battle, and Angie held her breath, trying to hear the show over her pounding pulse that thumped in her ears, over the cacophony of tiny wings beating in her chest and stomach. She did her best to let her fingers be pliant and not stiff, sometimes matching his movements and sometimes countering and making him chase her just a little. Playing. And Will was  _ good  _ at it. This felt so Goddamn intimate she thought she might explode, and she thought this might be the hottest thing she’d ever done, despite it being completely ridiculously wholesome and tame and after-school special appropriate. They hadn’t even  _ kissed _ , and yet as far as foreplay went, Angie felt good to go. 

_ God _ , she hoped Will was on the same page as her on this.

The show was almost over, and some of the anxiety that had been soothed out of her began to return, because she knew when the episode ended, that the spell-- _ whatever this was _ \--would be over too. She tried to savour the touch now, while it lasted, and to ignore how hot it was when the pads of his fingers would brush hers, splaying out her fingers before stroking down the inside of them, and then interlacing them again. She wanted this to last forever, but too soon the battle was ending with the news of the Usurper’s death being a fake, and Angie knew it was going to end any second now on a total cliffhanger. Under normal circumstances, she’d be desperate to hit play on the next episode. But not tonight. 

The episode ended, the screen turning to black, and the credits began to roll accompanied by the epic orchestral Joust score. This was normally where Will and Angie would sing along, possibly adding their own made-up lyrics to the instrumental piece, but not tonight. Tonight, they just sat in silence and watched the credits, still holding hands. Both of them wondering what to do next. Or, at least, Angie assumed Will must be wondering, because he hadn’t actually  _ done _ anything. 

Eventually the episode was over, and the next one was starting, and that’s when Will leaned forward and hit pause on the remote that was sitting on the table.  _ Okay, _ this is it, Angie thought. And she held her breath, readying herself for the bubble to burst, for the inevitable awkwardness to set in. He was still holding her hand, and now he squeezed just a little tighter and held it up between them, gesturing down with his eyes before looking back up into hers.

“This was nice.” He said, more than a little tentatively. He was nervous, of course he was nervous. Angie was totally  _ freaked out _ . But that was more at the possibility of him not wanting what she wanted, and hadn’t he just said that this was nice? Was it possible he meant that  _ as friends? _

“Yeah, ummm…” Angie fumbled, looking back at him like a deer caught in headlights. Big, blue headlights. With a sexy beard. And a kind fucking heart. Oh  _ God _ was she into Will. It had been a slow and gradual attraction, it had snuck up on her. But since she’d acknowledged it, since Tracey had  _ forced _ her to… well, her little crush had spiraled out of control. So when Will said what he said next, she thought she might go into cardiac arrest because she’d been imagining it so long, how was she to know whether this was actually real or not?

“Would it be crazy if I kissed you right now?” Will asked, his blue eyes wide and worried, but there was a fierce determination there. They beseeched her to say yes, as if she would ever say no. 

“No crazier than having a Reality TV star for a president.” She replied, not knowing why she said it. Well, she  _ knew  _ why she said it, it was because she was terrible in serious situations, she always cracked an inappropriate joke that made everyone uncomfortable. In some circles, that was called “pulling a D’Amato”. Will chuckled once and then put a stern look on his face and shook his head once.

“Angie, let’s not talk about him just this minute.” He replied, and she bit her lip and nodded, her eyes lost in Will’s, their connection feeling unbreakable and magnetic. 

“Good idea.” She agreed, and Will nodded, now looking down at her lips. 

And then he leaned in. And, Oh My God, she was  _ kissing _ Will Cooper. Will Cooper from school, KZOP’s Will Cooper… her  _ best friend _ Will Cooper. She was  _ kissing him, _ and it was… glorious.

The press of his lips against hers was soft at first, but there wasn’t anything tentative about it. He was kissing her with all the tenderness in the world, as if this moment was something he wanted to honour and remember, and yet he was also kissing her with a  _ purpose _ . 

His hand cupped her head, his thumb brushing her cheekbone and his fingers splaying into her hair. He was holding her in place, guiding the pace of the kiss and making her feel so  _ cherished _ . And yet she knew with implicit trust that all she would have to do is  _ think it,  _ and Will would let go and back away. He was the embodiment of care and respect, and she felt infinitely safe with him. 

But she didn’t want to pull away. She wanted  _ more. _ So far, he’d been kissing her softly, at first just a press of their lips. Those lips were moving chastely against one another now, but that was a slippery slope. This was already more than everything Angie could have imagined, but she wanted to deepen the kiss, she wanted more, she wanted  _ everything.  _

This was Will,  _ her Will. _ The funny, dorky, loving, helpful, kind, and generous best friend that was already everything to her, but now he was  _ more. _ He was in her arms, and she was in his, and he was kissing her like he might never get the chance again. And yet, he was unhurried. A little too unhurried for Angie’s current mood, if she was being honest, because she’d just been wanting this for so  _ long. _ You could hardly blame her for being impatient, she thought. She let out a breathy sigh of pleasure into their kiss, unable to stop herself. 

Suddenly, Will stopped and pulled away, just a few inches so that he could look at Angie’s face. He was breathing heavily, and his blue eyes were wide and lustful, and just a little worried. “Is this… okay?” He asked, and Angie felt the curious combination of emotions that Will evoked in her so often: exasperation and attraction. She wanted to roll her eyes at him, and yet her heart was just about ready to burst at how sweet he was. 

She decided to forego the eyeroll and instead nodded her head raggedly. She was about to open her mouth to say ‘ _ yes’ _ , but her nod was all Will had apparently needed, and he leaned back in, this time harder and with more passion. She wasn’t sure who opened their mouth first, but it happened fast, and seemed to be an extremely mutual need for them both. Will needed  _ more _ just as much as Angie did. That knowledge was heady and satisfying, and she smiled into the kiss and then their tongues were touching, probing, exploring,  _ dancing.  _ They were doing all the wonderful things that were so gross sounding when you put them into words. 

They were sitting a little awkwardly, side by side and twisting to face each other. So when Angie felt the faintest of tugs against her, Will gently letting her know he wanted her  _ closer. _ Well, she didn’t need to be asked twice. Angie followed the direction of her body and completed the twist, never breaking their kiss, and suddenly she was straddling Will, her hands on his shoulders and her knees pressing into the couch on either side of his legs. He let out a little moan of pleasure as she settled, and Angie was smiling into their kiss again. This felt good. This felt  _ right. _

And they kissed, and they kissed, and they  _ kissed. _ They made out like a couple of teenagers, and Angie didn’t think she’d ever felt this good since she was that age, all young and carefree. Will’s hands travelled up and down Angie’s back, holding her close, exploring. Eventually, he’d worked up the nerve and squeezed her ass with both hands, and Angie had  _ liked it _ , and rewarded him with a soft moan as she pressed herself back into Will’s hands. Everything about this was perfect. They fit together perfectly. Will was… perfect. 

Angie was also pleasantly surprised to find Will’s beard to be much softer than she’d expected, and she idly wondered to herself what sort of product he used, because he was obviously using  _ something. _ Beards didn’t get this soft by accident. She cupped his cheek, running her fingers through the silky bristles, and Will must have liked that because he groaned in pleasure, making Angie smile. This was good. This was so, so good. 

They’d been kissing so long that Angie’s jaw was starting to ache, and honestly, things were getting… fervent. It was clear they both wanted more, as time had passed and their kiss had devolved into pure passion and  _ need _ , it was obvious where this was going. But they’d both been happy just to keep kissing for the time being, because this was good too. But now, Angie couldn’t wait any longer, and she thought Will might feel the same. 

She pulled away, panting, to look at Will. She kept her hands in his hair, both of them spread across the back of his head, and he kept his grip on her ass which was more than alright with Angie. He was panting too, his lungs as desperate for oxygen as hers were, and his eyes searched hers, silently making sure she was okay, and begging her for more. For a long moment they just sat there like that, breathing heavily and looking at each other, before Will wetted his lips and Angie was overcome by another wave of desire and she remembered why she had pulled away from him in the first place. 

“Should we-- umm--” She started her words breathy and desperate. She looked off towards the hallway and then back at Will. 

“Bedroom?” He supplied, already nodding, and Angie joined him, nodding raggedly herself. 

“Yeah, I think-- that’s a good--” But then they were kissing again, and clumsily getting to their feet, all giddy from the excitement of what was happening,  _ what was about to happen. _

And then there was a noise, like something falling over, from Sophie’s room. 

“Cheese on a biscuit!” Will cursed, and Angie couldn’t help it, she laughed despite wanting to do nothing other than groan. She and Will had barely had a chance to jump apart and hastily wipe at their wet, swollen lips before Graham stumbled his way down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes.

“Mom?” he asked, groggily. “Are we sleeping over?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart, mommy had a bit too much juice while watching Joust and I think that’s for the best.” She replied, and Graham, the picture of his mother, rolled his eyes. 

“I know what  _ wine _ is, Mom.” He replied, and Angie smiled, full of love and affection for her sweet, perceptive child. Though, to be honest, it was a bit of a mood-killer, and she hoped Graham would go back to sleep as soon as possible. 

“So, you go back to bed with Sophie, and we’ll get McDonald’s in the morning.” Angie said, knowing full well that dropping the ‘M’ word usually got her whatever she wanted, which at this moment, was for Graham to go back to sleep. 

“Sophie’s talking in her sleep, that’s why I woke up. Can I sleep in the guest room with you?” He asked, and Angie bit her lip. Could she say no? She looked at Will, whose eyes were wide with panic, and she could see him desperately thinking. 

“The guest room-- is--” Will fumbled, looking for some sort of reason why Graham’s reasonable request had to be denied. 

“Rats, they have rats.” Angie supplied, blurting out the first thing that came to her mind. “They have rats in the guest room, it’s a problem.” Graham’s eyes went wide and a look of horror transfixed his face.

“Rats!?” He asked, aghast, and both Will and Angie nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah,  _ big ones. _ But they’re only in the guest room. So we can’t sleep in there. I was going to crash on the couch. You’re better off with Sophie, dude. Unless you think sleeping with rats is better than Sophie talking in her sleep.” He shook his head vigorously. 

“No, I’m good.” He replied, and Angie smiled and bent down to kiss the top of his head. 

“Here, I’ll come with you, Sophie’s been talking in her sleep since she was three, I know how to stop her.” Will said, stepping in and holding out his hand. Still sleepy, Graham took it, and turned to his Mom.

“Alright, night Mom.” He said, and she smiled.

“Night, bud.” She said in reply, and watched as Will took her son by the hand down the hall, and led him towards his daughter’s room. And all at once, she was hit by this intense wave of  _ domestic bliss _ . And all she could think was  _ what a boner killer. _

Will had taken about 10 minutes to put the kids to bed, and when he came back he found Angie camped on his couch, making a cheeto sandwich, using two chocolate chip cookies as the bread. She’d looked up at him, guiltily, when she was discovered, but he’d only smiled warmly in response, and sat down next to her. 

“They’re finally asleep.” He whispered, looking at her a little lost, and Angie felt her smile twist to the side, ruefully. She knew what that look meant. It meant ‘what do we do now?’ and frankly? Angie had  _ no _ idea. That moment, that incredibly sexually charged moment they’d been in, would one  _ thousand _ percent have led to sex, if they hadn’t been interrupted.

But they  _ had _ been interrupted, and that bubble had most definitely burst. So… what now? 

“Will I--”

“Angie, we should--” 

They both spoke at the same time, and then stopped short, laughing a little awkwardly.

“You first--”

“You go first--” They said together, once again tripping over one another’s words. 

They laughed, and then Will turned towards Angie and placed his hands on his knees, a determined and somewhat serious look transforming his face. “Okay, I will.” He said, and there was something in his look that had struck Angie a little dumb, so she stayed quiet, and tremulously nodded her head. 

Seeing that Angie wasn’t going to interrupt, or say anything at all, really, Will continued. He looked deep into her eyes, taking his time as though he was working up the courage to say something very important. 

“Angie…” He started, then stopped to swallow and ostensibly, for dramatic tension. This was still Will, she was dealing with. She took the moment to steel herself for the inevitable rejection that was going to follow. He’d cooled off, he’d panicked,  _ they were best friends. This was a total and utter mistake.  _ She held her breath and waited for the words to hit like blows from a hammer.  _ Damn _ , he was taking a long time, she thought. 

Across from her, Will seemed to find the strength it took to continue, and the lost look in his eyes seemed to steel itself and become more resolute. He cleared his throat.

“We need to talk.” 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So my intention was to write a second chapter that gets a little "hotter", but I'd love to hear if you actually want to read it, and what you thought of part one! Comments and kudos are eternally appreciated <3
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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